


Not That Kind of Genie

by MycroftexMachina



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Magical Realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 15:03:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15843738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MycroftexMachina/pseuds/MycroftexMachina
Summary: Mitch Marner: matchmaking genie.





	Not That Kind of Genie

**Author's Note:**

> Let’s assume Willy signed his contract, okay? Okay.
> 
> Also, I know nothing about golf and I couldn't be bothered with doing any research on something so utterly boring. In a world with magical creatures, we can suspend our disbelief for this, too, right? Right. Carry on.

 

“I didn’t know this,” Mitch says looking at Hyms flabbergasted. “How did I not know this?” he mutters to himself.

“Could we move on, Marns? Please?” Hyms replies hiding his head in his hands, seemingly disconsolate. “Because repeating it is not going to help me. At all.”

“You started it,” Mitch complains outraged. He’s trying to be supportive, really, but _How did I not know this?_ he asks himself for the fourth time. He should know it. It’s what he does, for fuck’s sake.

“Willy started it,” Hyms grumbles before looking back at his phone. “Of course Willy started it. Because he cannot help but taking wonderful pictures and looking all handsome and shit.”

“To be fair, it’s a pretty cute picture,” Mitch points out, looking at the snap of Willy horse-playing with one of his sisters that’s been making the rounds, both among the Leafs and throughout Planet Earth—thanks, Tumblr.

“So you do see my problem,” Hyms sighs.

“Not really,” Mitch replies. “But I don’t have a massive boner for William Nylander. Like you do, apparently.”

_How the fuck did I miss it?_ Mitch ponders once again, especially because Zach is actually glowing while staring at Willy’s photo.

“I don’t have a massive boner for Willy,” Hymie shoots back, convincing precisely nobody. It’s not like he’s even trying, to be honest.

“I just cannot believe I didn’t see it,” Mitch muses aloud, still looking at Zach looking at Willy.

It is a fucking adorable picture, and Mitch can totally understand why Zach’s ovaries—or whatever passes for ovaries in adult males, Mitch didn't do so well in Biology—are imploding or something. Willy is attractive any day of the week and Willy with children is a lethal combination. Still, Mitch is really disappointed with himself, because he’s a master at matchmaking and he really didn’t see Zach’s massive crush until when Zach came over to sigh hopelessly in Mitch’s living room just one hour ago.

“Could you stop with that?” Zach sighs throwing himself on Mitch’s couch. “It’s not like I didn’t try to hide it.”

“I guess,” Mitch grumbles, though Zach is totally missing the point.

Well, Zach doesn’t know the point, really, since Mitch hasn’t told him—or anyone else—about the ‘Point’, so it’s not fair for Mitch to accuse him of that.

Nevertheless, Mitch is really bothered he didn’t see this, because it’s his job.

Well, more like his destiny.

Or power.

Gift?

He never really sat down and defined what it is that he can do, since nobody who knows him is aware of his abilities. And the discussion board he’s a member of—the one he found five years ago, when he decided he needed to figure out his powers and how to use them—has no other genie. Just a couple of werewolves, a merman, two fairies and three trolls at the last count. Oh, and a selkie. Just your garden variety supernatural creatures, and not very many at that because apparently Canada is not very welcoming. Or supernatural creatures don't like Canada. Or Canadian supernatural creatures don't like using discussion boards. Who the fuck knows.

Still. Mitch is a matchmaking genie, so he should have seen Zach’s crush.

And not a matchmaking _genius_ , which is what Crouser claimed to be once, when he introduced Chucky to a cousin of his and the two of them hooked up for a whooping three weeks.

No, Mitch is a bona fide _genie_ , specifically one very skilled at matchmaking. He’s got the powers, the special effects and the magic formulas to prove it, not to mention an excellent portfolio that includes finding Connor McDavid a soulmate—not that it was difficult, in hindsight.

The only thing Mitch doesn’t have, thank fuck, is a bottle or a lamp, or whatever passes for genies’ residence these days. He really doesn’t like small spaces, he doesn’t want people to rub him without permission, and he’s certainly not interested in going around to grant stupid wishes to equally stupid people in order to get some air.

Still a genie, though.

It’s like this: Mitch is able to see it when two persons are meant for each other, even if they don’t quite see it themselves. There is something about them that … glows, for lack of a better term, though it’s not an aura, because trolls can see auras and they don't look like what Mitch sees when he meets people destined to be together forever. It’s more, like, a ‘luminosity’ that a person exudes and merges seamlessly with another person’s. It can be quite mesmerizing, honestly. Mitch wishes people could see the whole thing Marty and Syd have going on. It’s a beaut. The problem is that Mitch can see it only when the two people are in close proximity, which sucks—for Mitch, but especially for the persons in question, since it does happens that people meant for each other live at the opposite sides of the planet. Still, when that happens, you can bet your ass Mitch is going to intervene. It’s what he’s meant to do.

He thinks, at least. It’s not like this genie gig came with an instruction manual or something. Mitch just woke up like this. Probably was born like this, though when he inquired about magic being part of the Marner heritage, his dad laughed for a week and his mom asked him if he wanted to read the Harry Potter books. Apparently it doesn't run in the family, Mitch discovered. Not really helpful, but at least he ruled that out.

Sure, there must be someone else who does what Mitch’s capable of; like, another genie or twenty, whose expertise is maybe not matchmaking but growing plants, or cooking gourmet dinners or something equally cute.

Muriel, one of the werewolves, told him there are a bunch of Russian were-bears living in Canada—heard it through the grapevines, whatever those look like for were-creatures. They’re not on their discussion board, but Muriel is working on it. Chances are, there are genies and vampires and trolls and Atlanteans and whatnot in Russia. Not to mention everywhere else in the world.

The point is, Mitch is a matchmaking genie, he’s been doing this since he was a kid, honing his trade for half a decade, he hasn't killed anybody yet, and he wants to help his family and all his friends to find their happily ever after.

Mom and dad took care of that before Mitch was even born and Marty and Syd well before Mitch met them. Chris is sowing his wild oats, so Mitch will get to that when Chris tells him he’s ready. Stromer, who’s Mitch’s best friend if one doesn't bring Auston Matthews into the equation, was one of Mitch’s earliest successes, though Mitch cannot really advertise the fact. Chucky is literally a law in and of himself and Mitch has given up on him a long time ago whereas he’s still working on Dvo and Lawson because Juniors’ friends are friends forever. As for the Leafs, well, let’s just say Mitch is thinking about it, or rather, about the players without a partner. Nobody’s luminescent in another player’s vicinity, at the moment.

“What am I going to do?” Zach sighs again, bringing Mitch back to the present.

“Tell him to shave his beard off,” Mitch suggests, since he wants to cut this new fashion in the bud. He hopes Kyle is gonna put a moratorium on facial hair, like, pronto. Lou knew what was up with that.

“Why?” Zach asks getting to a seated, and more dignified, position.

“Because he looks like a bum?”

“He looks great,” Zach objects dreamingly. “You’re just jealous because Willy can pull it off and Matty can’t.”

Mitch blushes but says nothing, because Zach is abso-fucking-lutely right. Auston Matthews looks like a creep with that sorry excuse for a beard he’s been growing of late. It’s like he got a haircut and then told the barber to collect the leftover hair, glue it to his face and style it in the worse possible way.

“Since when?” Mitch changes topic, though not so deftly.

“Since when, what?” Zach asks.

“This … thing you have for Willy. How long has it been going on?” Mitch clarifies.

“I don’t know,” Zach looks at Mitch’s living room ceiling—not that impressive, Mitch reflects, since Mitch never got around gluing the stars he bought for it, but he gets Zach’s need to not look him in the eye. “Smashfest?”

“Ah,” Mitch nods, suddenly reassured. If it started during the summer Mitch didn’t see it because there was nothing to see until recently. That is fine, then. His powers are intact.

“Yeah,” Zach nods. “He looked really good at playing tennis table.”

Mitch wants to gag, because: 1. He doesn’t like tennis table; 2. He doesn’t personally find Willy attractive, though he loves him a lot; 3. Zach is making heart eyes at Willy’s photo again and it’s getting a bit tiresome.

However, Mitch’s genie heart grows all mellow and fuzzy, because he loves to see people in love—or in lust, Mitch still doesn’t have a clear read, here—and Zach all flustered is kind of cute. Plus, Mitch does want him to be happy.

“So what’s the plan?” he asks helpful.

“What’s what plan?” Zach looks puzzled.

“Are you gonna ask him out? Or does he know already? When is he coming back to Toronto?” Mitch says.

“Wow, wow, wow, slow down, there, Marns,” Zach says surprised. “Who said anything about asking him out?”

“Well,” Mitch says, “what are you gonna do about your crush if you’re not asking him out?”

“Nothing,” Zach replies like that explains everything.

“What do you mean ‘nothing’?” Mitch hopes he looks as horrified as he sounds. “You can’t do _nothing_!”

“Why not?” Zach says. “It’s not like Willy’s going to discover himself hopelessly in love with me.”

“Why not?” Mitch echoes. “First of all, it wouldn’t be hopeless because you like him, too. Secondly, you suddenly discovered yourself hopelessly in something with him. Why shouldn’t that happen to him, as well?”

That draws Zach’s attention. It should: Mitch knows his shit and he’s been doing this since he was ten and he managed to get his best friend Lyle together with Marie, his cousin—Mitch’s cousin, not Lyle, ‘cause that’d be sort of weird, at least in some states. They’ve been dating ever since and they’re going to get married next summer.

Sure, Mitch needs to see Zach and Willy _together_ before he can be 100% sure that this is the love of a lifetime, but it’s not like the two of them don’t like each other.

“I mean,” Zach says hesitant. “I don’t know, I guess.”

“And you won’t if you don’t ask him,” Mitch points out reasonably.

“Right,” Zach says, clearly unable to refute Mitch’s impeccable logic. “I was planning on pining, to be honest.”

“Pining is all well and good,” Mitch agrees, since he’s mastered the art of pining in the past two years, “but it doesn’t get you very far.”

“You seem to be doing just fine,” Zach observes.

“I mean, I’m not unhappy, if that’s what you mean, but I am still, like, at the starting line,” Mitch reminds him.

“As I said: fine,” Zach shrugs.

“Are you suggesting you should use me as a role model?” Mitch smirks delighted.

“You’re not as bad as you make yourself sound, Marns,” Hyms laughs. “I don’t even know if Willy’d be interested in a guy,” he then adds.

“Willy likes people, Zachy,” Mitch says. “In all their shapes and forms. And he likes you.” Of that, Mitch is certain.

“Maybe,” Zach smiles softly. “Still, I wasn’t planning on telling him anything. Plus, it might just be a passing fancy, you know? It’s not like I’ve talked to him often during the summer.”

“Bullshit,” Mitch replies. Zach doesn’t do ‘passing fancies’ and he’s been chatting with Willy daily since the Leafs’ season ended.

“Maybe he’s still dating that girl he started seeing in the spring,” Zach observes.

“Won’t know if you don’t ask,” Mitch says pulling out his phone and sending a quick text to Auston.

“What are you doing?” Zach looks dismayed.

“Relax, I am asking Matty, not Willy,” Mitch explains. “You have to be stealthy about this kind of things. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

Auston replies by FaceTiming, because apparently he’s incapable of a simple ‘yes or no’ answer.

“Yo,” Mitch says rolling his eyes.

“Why do you want to know?” Auston says looking all cutely ugly with his messy beard. Mitch really needs to start working on getting rid of that.

“Hello to you, too, Matts. I am doing fantastic, thanks for asking,” Mitch says obnoxiously.

“We talked yesterday, Marns,” Auston huffs, a fond smile on his face. “What do you care about Willy’s couple status?”

“I don’t,” Mitch acknowledges, “but curious minds want to know.”

“Which curious minds?”

“Answer the fucking question, Matty. Unless this is all of a sudden a matter of national security.”

“Mitch is asking because of me, Matts,” Zach says, getting up from the couch and sitting next to Mitch on the loveseat so Auston can see him, too.

“Hymie,” Auston waves like a moron. “You should have said.”

“What,” Mitch grumbles irritated. “Zach can know but I can’t?”

“I never know where you’re going when you ask me random questions out of the blue,” Matty defends himself.

“What do you mean?” Mitch asks puzzled.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Matty says. “Last fall you asked me what I thought about Caribbean cruises and two days later we spent an afternoon at a greenhouse debating the merits of having a palm in a Toronto condo.”

“Of course,” Mitch says. “Caribbean cruises, warm weather, cool and unusual vegetation, palms, greenhouse,” Mitch explains, like he had at the time.

“I thought you wanted to go away on a cruise for bye-week,” Auston replies for what must be the fiftieth time.

“Why would I want to go on a cruise for bye-week? You always make plans with Mo or Freddie,” Mitch asks, as puzzled today as he was back then.

“Can we get back to Willy?” Zach interjects before the conversation gets too derailed.

“Right,” Auston reddens, much to Mitch’s amusement. “Willy is free as the proverbial bird. You thinking of applying for the position?”

“Matts,” Zach does his best to sound outraged, but Mitch can tell he’s ready to burst out laughing.

“I’m just asking,” Matty defends himself.

“Let’s say we’re exploring new possibilities,” Mitch informs him wagging his eyebrows.

“We?” Auston asks confused. “You guys looking for a threesome? Because if so, then I think I should be the first one to be asked.”

“Matts!” This time Zach is truly outraged—clearly threesomes are not his cup of tea, which is something Mitch is glad to know, since every little bit helps. He can see things other people can’t, but there is nothing as good as direct and thorough information from the source.

“Mitchy said ‘we’,” Auston protests.

“Mitchy is trying to be a supportive friend,” Mitch tells him. “Plus why should we ask you first? Is there something you haven’t shared with the class? Like a newly found interest in threesomes? Or maybe in Zach?”

“Fuck off, Marns,” Auston says. “No offense, Hymie. But to go back to the topic at hand, Willy and his girl broke up a while back and he’s not seeing anyone at the moment.”

“That solves one problem,” Mitch turns towards Zach smiling encouragingly.

“What are the others?” Auston asks, clearly on board with the idea of helping Hymie bagging Willy. Mitch approves. He usually works solo, but he’s happy to have an assistant.

“Sexual preferences, for one thing,” Zach says.

“It’s Willy,” Auston waves his left hand dismissively. “He’ll try everything once and I know for a fact he’s tried men _more_ than once.”

“How is it that I don't know these things?” Mitch asks to no one in particular. “I feel like I missed like a whole chapter in the book of the Leafs’ rookies’ adventures and experiences.”

“I mean, it’s not like Willy’s secretive about this,” Auston says.

“He’s never told me anything,” Zach intervenes, “but I also never flat-out asked. This seems the kind of convo you two guys would have.”

“What?” Mitch asks, “like comparing notches on bedposts?”

“I don't do that!” Matts blushes furiously.

“You certainly slowed down last year,” Zach nods sagely. “So did Willy.”

“Whatever,” Auston says. “Willy is going to be on board with the d, so don’t sweat it.”

“Way to kill the romance, Matthews,” Mitch sighs disappointed. He’s a matchmaking genie after all, not a hook-up genie. He has standards, though he appreciates hook-ups like the next person.

Zach says nothing, because he’s too busy sputtering like the Krakatoa.

“You know what I mean,” Auston says.

“On board with the d,” Zach mouths at Mitch.

“I suppose we could incorporate it with the rest of inane comments we make to the press and see how it goes,” Mitch ponders. “You know, instead of, like, ‘We just to need to go behind their d’ or ‘We’re gonna start strong and to go in deep’.”

There is a short silence before both Zach and Auston start giggling hysterically.

“It’s an idea,” Auston says teary-eyed.

“We should get the rookies do it,” Zach adds. “Like, Dermy.”

“Or Kappy,” Mitch suggests. “Angel-face and all that. It’s going to be epic.”

“I vote for Freddie,” Auston suggests. “He can do it with his deadly stare. Nobody would dare to question him.”

They go back and forth for five minutes, debating who should be the first to try it out and they finally settle on Mo, because he has got the ‘good boy’ gig down to a tee.

“Point is,” Auston finally brings them back to the matchmaking business, “Willy is bi and he’s not hiding it; if you guys don't know it’s because you’re oblivious, so don't get on my ass about outing someone. Jeez, Hyms, ask him out or something.”

“We’re also teammates,” Zach reminds them.

“Because you’d be the first teammates to do the deed?” Mitch asks.

“Is there something we should know, Marns?” Matts asks curious.

“Not me,” Mitch sighs. “But I can think of three players who were or are in a relationship with a teammate or former teammate.”

What can he says? He’s fucking good at his job. Power. Gift. Whatever.

“That makes it at least six players, right?” Zach asks.

“At least,” Mitch confirms.

“Mmm,” Matty hums ponderingly. “I guess I know a couple, too, though they might be your guys.”

“Not telling,” Mitch prevents the flood of questions right then and there. With great powers comes great responsibility. He likes Spiderman, especially the latest incarnation, and takes its teachings seriously. Plus Viviana, the eldest of the two fairies, is very vocal about personal responsibility and heritage. Suppose they’re the only ones in the world. They need to go a good job so supernatural beings don't get a bad rep.

“Fine, keep your secrets,” Matts shrugs. “But that’s another problem you need not to worry about, Hymie.”

“And Willy likes you,” Mitch repeats.

“Of course he does,” Auston adds. “I know for a fact that you’re one of his favorite people. He tells me often enough, especially when he’s mad at me.”

“Willy doesn't get mad,” Zach reminds them.

“True,” Matts nods. “But when he gets fake-mad, he reminds me of all my failings and of how you’re such a superior line-mate, teammate and overall human being.”

“Do you know when he’s coming back?” Mitch asks.

“Labor Day? I mean, American Labor Day. Or soon thereafter. I get in just after him, if I remember correctly, and I am flying into Toronto next Friday,” Auston explains.

“That leaves us plenty of time for a plan of attack,” Mitch nods satisfied. “We could even enlist Kappy’s help, if he’s back.”

“Kappy is in Finland until next Saturday,” Zach shakes his head. “And this is not a group project.”

“Of course it is,” Mitch says. “Plus, if we are going to be playing on JT’s line, we need to start building some chemistry. What better way than collaborating in helping you snatch your man?”

“You have chemistry with everyone you play with, Mitch,” Zach points out, “you’re too good not to.”

It’s a lovely thing to say, so Mitch hugs Zach and kisses him loudly on the cheek.

“Marns!” Zach objects while Auston laughs amused.

“I wanna help, too, Zach,” Auston adds. “Willy is not gonna know what hit him and you guys are going to be great together.”

Mitch agrees, though he does really need to see them together. But while they wait for Willy to return to Toronto, they can do some groundwork and maybe plan a couple of outings.

“That’s a good idea,” Auston agrees when Mitch tells them what he’s thinking.

“Not a group project,” Zach reiterates.

“But Marns is right,” Auston says. “You can plan a couple of dates and check out some spots Willy might like. I can ask him, sort of faux-casually, and then pass the info along.”

“And I think you should pick him up from the airport,” Mitch tells Zach. “You know, be the first person he sees when he comes back?”

“He was in Toronto, like, three weeks ago,” Zach reminds him.

“Still,” Mitch says. “Get his flight info and tell him you’ll be there. It’s a nice thing to do.”

“Does that mean you’re picking _me_ up?” Auston asks with nonchalance.

“Maybe,” Mitch smiles toothily. “If you’re actually helpful with this, I just might.”

Zach rolls his eyes at their obvious flirting but grabs his phone, seemingly to text Willy that he has a ride from Pearson.

“Send me the list of places you come up with, Marns,” Auston asks before hanging up. “I can stealthily run it through Willy.”

“Will do,” Marns nods.

“See,” he tells Zach, once they’ve said their goodbyes to Matty. “Piece of cake.”

“Piece of cake, he says,” Zach exhales. “I want to see you doing the same thing with Auston and then tell me it’s a piece of cake.”

Mitch wrinkles his nose but says nothing. His success rate when it comes to himself isn’t that good, since he cannot see his own luminosity and how it harmonizes with other people’s. It’s the old-fashioned way, for him, and while he doesn't regret any of the relationships he had, he never really met anyone he thought would last forever. Besides Auston, of course.

“Well,” Zach says, glossing over Mitch’s silence. “Dinner is on me, since you’ve been so nice about the whole thing. You wanna try one of the restaurants Willy might like?”

“For sure,” Mitch nods excited. “Let’s get this show on the road.

***

From what Mitch is told, picking Willy up from the airport goes well. Mitch isn’t there, even if he wanted to, because Zach forbade him to show up, but he gets a text from Zach with two thumbs up and a smile.

“No, they didn't do the deed,” Auston tells Mitch when Mitch calls him later that night.

“How do you know?” Mitch asks while picking at his pasta salad. He called while having dinner so he doesn't have to eat by himself.

“Because Zach dropped Willy off home and left, something he would have told you if given the time to do so,” Auston explains patiently.

“Whatever,” Mitch says. “I just want him to be happy.”

“I know you do, Marns,” Auston smiles. “Hymie knows, too, but I don’t think he wants you to back-seat drive his relationship.”

Mitch really wishes he could say he knows better that anyone about these things, but the whole genie business is not something he ever thought he’d explain unless he can’t help it, so he nods his assent.

“Fine,” he relents. “But the four of us are playing golf together as soon as you get back.”

“You suck at golf, Marns,” Auston reminds him.

“Freddie taught me a few tricks and so has Stromer,” Mitch huffs offended.

“Freddie told me he _tried_ to teach you a few tricks,” Auston corrects him, the dick.

“Freddie should shut his mouth,” Mitch says. “I almost beat him.”

“ _Almost_ being the operative word, here,” Auston smirks.

“I beat Stromer,” Mitch adds.

“You told me Stromer cannot play golf to save his life,” Auston reminds him.

“He’s improved, too,” Mitch explains.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Auston replies. “In the meantime, you can play with Zach.”

“Fuck off, Matts,” Mitch shots back. “You cannot interfere with the course of true love. You have to play with me.”

“Jeez, Marns, I was joking,” Auston says. “Just let Hymie be for two seconds, though.”

“I wanna help,” Mitch whines.

Auston’s eyes crinkle and his face goes all soft and fond.

“I know you do, Marns,” he says gently. “We will, and then we can spend the next ten years making fun of them. Deal?”

“Deal,” Mitch begrudgingly concedes.

“You still my ride on Friday?” Auston asks next.

“Of course,” Mitch nods. “I will be there with coffee from Tim’s and some of those pastries you like.”

Auston brightens up. “Not too many, though. Training camp is just around the corner.”

“And you’re built like a truck, exactly like last summer. I am sure you have some way to work out those extra calories,” Mitch smirks.

“Jealous, Mitchy?”

“I gained ten pounds,” Mitch informs him proudly.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Auston shots back before hanging up on him.

Mitch shoots him a ‘fuck off’ snap and finishes his dinner before deciding to dedicate some time to his Fortnite skills.

He also spends the next few days saying goodbye to friends who’re going to training camp and much of his energies trying to convince Auston to shave—still no luck on that front, but he’s trying.

On Friday night, he’s at Auston’s, helping him putting his clothes away, because he’s a good bro like that—plus he likes the way Auston’s clothes smell, not to mention how Auston smells, and it’s nice to be surrounded by that every once in a while.

“Zach said okay for golf on Sunday, by the way,” Auston tells Mitch as he makes room in his closet for the five new pairs of shoes he acquired in the past month.

“I know, he called me,” Mitch smiles happily. Soon, he will be able to see Willy and Zach together. He can’t wait.

“You’re way too invested in this,” Auston shakes his head.

“I want my friends to be healthy and happy,” Mitch defends himself, not for the first time, while he sits on Auston’s bed. He can put his clothes away by himself if he’s gonna be a dick about everything.

“I know you do, Marns,” Auston raises his hands. “I just don't want you to be disappointed if it doesn't work out.”

“I’m not going to be,” Mitch waves Auston’s concerns away.

Auston looks at him disbelieving.

“I am not,” Mitch assures him. “I wasn't when Chucky and Dvo didn't hit it off as I thought they would.”

“Chucky and Dvo?” Auston asks, eyebrows raised. “Are you crazy? Dvo might be the staunchest supporter with his LGBT friends, but he’s almost offensively straight. And one would need an armor to date Chucky.”

“Yeah, not my finest moment,” Mitch agrees. “But they were, like, seriously magic on the ice, you know. I thought it’d transfer well off the ice.”

The fact that there hadn’t been any merging of the luminosities should have tipped Mitch off, but back then he was still trying to figure things out and had just hit the jackpot with Stromer and Davo, so he’d been drunk on his power—Tina the Selkie’s words, not Mitch, though Tina did have a point. Tina often has good points, to be honest. She is a Marine Biologist at the University of Newfoundland—of course—and she not only offers excellent advice, she also usually right, much to Viviana’s dismay.

“Willy and I are magic on the ice as well, but I don't want to marry him,” Auston objects.

“Didn't say that it’s an universal truth,” Mitch shrugs. “And I didn't say anything about marriage, either.”

“Whatever,” Auston replies. “Just don't get your hopes up.”

“I won’t, dad,” Mitch says.

“So Chucky’s one of the six, eh?” Auston asks.

“Nope,” Mitch says truthfully. “And he’s one of your besties. I’m sure you know what he likes.”

“Not first hand, thanks,” Auston shivers, “but he does like to over-share.”

“Because you don’t,” Mitch snorts, remembering all the stories he had to listen to, especially during their rookie season. Auston got more tightlipped last year—or maybe he hooked up fewer times. Mitch tries not to pay too much attention to things that hurt him, to be honest.

“Anyways,” Auston says. “Anyone else?”

“I’m not outing people just because you’re in it for the gossip, Matts,” Mitch replies.

“But, like, some of our friends aren’t secretive about this,” Auston objects.

“Still, we don't share all of our friends,” Mitch says primly.

“Fine,” Auston smiles, stuffing his underwear in a drawer. “Keep your secrets, then. I will ask Davo when I see him at the All Star.”

“Getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you?” Mitch says. “JT might get to go this year,” he adds.

“Maybe you will,” Auston comments, ever the loyal friend. “Maybe we get to go together for once and then we can ask Davo.”

“Davo knows shit anyway,” Mitch says. “If you want the good gossip you have to talk to Stromer. He’s either friends with, related to, or has fucked half the league—or at least half the last three draft classes.”

“Mitchy!” Auston yells shocked, but Mitch grins broadly.

“Come on, Matty,” he says. “You know about Dyls. I seem to remember he had a close encounter with Chucky at some point.”

“Fine, yes,” Auston lies down next to Mitch and turns towards him. “Sometimes I cannot believe how nobody’s gotten outed yet.”

“Dunno,” Mitch says, though he suspects the Hockey Gods might have something to do with this. He strongly believes in the Hockey Gods, what with being a genie himself.

“Come on,” Mitch adds a minute later. “I helped you, now you gotta feed me.”

“Take out and Fortnite?” Auston asks looking as hopefully as a puppy wanting to go on a walk.

“I am sleeping in your guestroom,” Mitch says.

“Absolutely,” Auston agrees, clearly as ready as Mitch to begin their third season of codependency.

***

Two days later, as he’s driving to the golf course, Mitch cannot contain his excitement.

He’s spent the last two days with Matty basically non-stop—still not success with the beard situation, since Matty treats his beard like a new-born puppy, but Mitch is nothing if not hopeful—, he had a lovely chat with Marty, who’s back in the States, and he caught up with Davo and Stromer, who just got back from Biosteel camp with crazy stories about Tyler Seguin.

With reminds Mitch that he should really work on him, because Seguin is the kind of guy who seems like he’d do well with a life partner. Dallas is far away, though and Mitch doesn't know Seguin that well. Plans for another day.

“You’re inordinately happy, Mitch,” Auston says from the passenger seat while checking his Instagram feed.

“It’s an awesome day, we get to be in the sun for most of it, it’s finally September and hockey is around the corner. Of course I’m happy,” Mitch replies. “Don't be a Debbie Downer, Matty,” he adds.

“I’m not,” Auston says turning towards Mitch. “This is my happy face. I am _so_ excited, Mitchy,” he explains while looking like a dead fish.

Mitch cannot really stare him into submission if he wants them to get to the golf course alive, so he flips him off, manfully ignoring Auston snickering.

By the time they find Zach, Auston’s gone through the entire team’s Twitter feeds and relayed the juiciest bits to Mitch, like Mitch doesn't check those things religiously.

“Where is Willy?” Mitch asks Zach after saying hello—he’s got some manners, after all.

“Right here,” Willy says from behind Mitch, who turns quickly.

“Willy,” he says, hugging him tightly, “I didn't see you!”

“Clearly,” Willy says amused, hugging Mitch back and dropping a loud kiss on his head to show his not-so-superior height.

“Matts,” Willy says more sedately, and he and Auston bro-hug, because they’re champions at pretending to be chill in public. If only the fans knew about the cuddle piles, Mitch ponders briefly.

“I see you’re still firmly in the beard-camp,” Mitch sighs disappointed.

“Until training camp,” Willy confesses with a shy smile, seemingly self-conscious about his life choices. Mitch wonders briefly if Zach said something. “Then I’ll get rid of it, I think.”

“See, Matty,” Mitch turns towards his best friend. “You should follow his example.”

“We’ll see,” Auston sniffs.

“Mitch is on a one-man campaign to enforce Lou’s rules even if Lou’s not here anymore,” Zach explains from the side.

Which brings Mitch back to his mission, namely to observe Willy and Zach _together._

Zach goes up next to Willy, ostensibly to give him his equipment, and Willy smiles in thanks before turning towards Matty to tell him something or other.

Mitch isn’t following because Willy and Zach’s luminosities? They’re a sight to behold.

Zach is, surprisingly, orange and purple, vibrant colors that Mitch wouldn't normally associate with him—‘Not the same as an aura,’ Langdon, the younger troll, bitches in the back of Mitch’s mind. It’s not very large, which makes sense, because Zach is a very understated and sort of behind-the-scene person, but it is very bright. And it meshes _perfectly_ with Willy’s green one. Like, it’s such a beautiful tapestry Mitch wishes he could take a picture and send it to the trolls so they can understand what he is unable to describe in words.

The green of Willy’s luminosity is really bright, an emerald green that Mitch supposes derives from the merging of Willy’s blues and yellows—Willy is a very colorful person, after all. The whole thing is also quite vast, as vast as Davo’s luminosity, also not surprising since they’re both larger than life.

What really blows Mitch’s mind is how the green is intertwined with the orange and purple, with the latter forming lovely arabesques and geometric patterns against the green background. It’s such a harmonious composition it almost rivals Davo and Stromer’s—the former golden, the latter red, creating endless sunsets every time they are in each other’s orbit.

“Mitch,” Auston says, snapping his fingers before Mitch’s nose. “Where did you go?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Mitch says, feeling his cheeks redden.

“You okay, bro?” Zach asks, looking a mixture of worried and chagrined at Mitch’s behavior.

“I couldn't remember if I turned the oven off,” Mitch lies.

“You’ve been at my place non-stop, Marns,” Auston points out.

“Which is why it was really important to remember whether I turned it off,” Mitch defends himself.

“If you didn't, I think it might be too late now,” Willy says side-hugging Mitch and dragging him towards the course they booked.

“Well,” Zach says checking his phone. “There are no reported explosions in your neighborhood, so I think you’re fine.”

“I did turn the oven off,” Mitch reassures them. Or rather, he never turned it on to begin with, but he needs this convo to end so that Zach and Willy can start spending quality time together so as to aid the further melding of their luminosities. Not to mention begin their happily ever after.

“I hear you want to play with Matts,” Willy says with a knowing smirk. “I thought you’d want to catch up, since I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“And I thought you’d want some quality time with Zach,” Mitch smiles back, his blue eyes briefly flashing to violet.

It’s one of his simplest tricks, really, just nudging Willy to following his instincts, which are screaming at him not to let Zach out of his sight. Like, ever.

Mitch read a lot of books and articles about consent when he was learning how to use his power—again, Tina’s suggestion, because she’s awesome—and he doesn't force people to do anything they don't already want. That would be rude, gross, and really not the point of happily ever after.

What he does do is helping them stop second-guessing themselves and improve their ability to read the signals their soon-to-be partner sends them. Usually that’s all he has to do, though once he had to shove, rather than nudge, with the end result that his friend Mark threw himself into a fountain as he was trying to hug Melody. They got together in the end, also because Mark is quite a dish when wet.

Willy pulls back chewing his lower lip and looking at Mitch intently.

“I do,” he admits softly, so as not to be overheard. “I didn't realize I was being so obvious.”

“Only for those who can see it,” Mitch replies.

“Dinner, after? You and me?” Willy asks, surprising Mitch.

“I would love to, but we’re not going to be able to shake them,” he says nodding towards Auston and Zach.

“You’re right,” Willy nods. “Breakfast tomorrow. I’ll come by around ten with food.”

“Is everything okay?” Mitch asks, suddenly worried.

“Everything is awesome,” Willy smiles broadly, hugging Mitch again. “Thanks a lot!” he adds walking towards Zach and draping himself all over him.

“Well,” Auston says coming up next to Mitch. “They seem to be doing fine.”

“You think?” Mitch asks. He can still see their luminosities, as harmonious as ever, but it’s nice to have a normal pair of eyes confirming that things are going according to plan.

“If they don't fuck tonight, they will soon,” Auston assures Mitch.

“I was hoping for something a bit more substantial, but fucking is fine, I guess,” Mitch sighs, somewhat disappointed at Auston’s lack of romanticism.

“And if Willy doesn't adopt a bunch of babies with Zach within the next decade, I will ask for a trade to Ottawa,” Auston adds, paling slightly at the idea of having to keep up his end of the bargain.

“Bold words,” Mitch smiles. “You’re lucky I love you too much to demand you actually do that. I don't want you to end up in that cesspool.”

“To be fair, the situation will have improved in a few years,” Auston observes as they follow Zach and Willy along.

“Sure. They’ve got no way to go but up,” Mitch agrees. “Still, I’d rather you stuck around so we can actually babysit the children you’re referring to.”

“I’ll do my best,” Auston says faux-seriously.

It is, as Mitch was hoping, an awesome day. Sure, Willy and Zach slaughter them at golf, which results in Auston sulking for thirty minutes before Mitch promises he’ll pick up the dinner bill and drive him to all home games during the season. That seems to appease Auston a bit.

Willy has a lot of great stories about his summer in Europe, and even more pictures with his family members, especially his siblings, which make Zach clearly go hot and soft all over, if his luminosity is of any indication. Mitch is suitably impressed, because he loves kids, and Auston’s eyes soften every time he hears Willy praising his little sisters’ accomplishments.

“You really like kids,” Mitch says in the car as he is driving Auston back home. They left Zach and Willy bickering about who’s going over whose place for ice-cream. Right, Mitch thought, ‘ice-cream’.

“Yeah,” Auston says. “I love my sisters to death, but I’m so jealous of Willy because he gets to enjoy his siblings while they’re still so young.”

“He’s really good with them,” Mitch says, and Auston hums in agreement. “They seem very taken with each other, don't you think? Hymie and Willy,” Auston adds after a moment.

“Taken with each other is better than ‘on board with the d’,” Mitch agrees.

“You’re a pain in the ass and I hate you,” Auston shakes his head.

“I am awesome and you love me, but you’re right,” Mitch concurs. “They’re gonna be just fine. Though Willy wants to have breakfast tomorrow. Just him and me.”

“He probably wants to catch up,” Auston says.

“Probably,” Mitch agrees, though he can’t help but thinking there is something going on with Willy. Something else besides the Zach-situation.

“Let me know? If there is a problem, I mean,” Auston asks.

“I’ll call you,” Mitch promises. “You still doing your thing with Mo and Freddie?”

“Yes, Marns,” Auston says long-suffering. “Mo, Freddie and I are still going to the tailors’ to get some new suits.”

Mitch, who doesn't find the activity as enthralling as Auston seemingly does, wrinkles his nose.

“Text me when you’re done,” he says. “If you don't hear from me.”

They say their goodbyes soon thereafter, Auston hugging Mitch before getting out of the car—something he’s been doing since he got back from Arizona. Mitch is not complaining.

Things are changing between them—they’ve been for a while, if Mitch is honest. He doesn't need to be a genie to know how well suited they are for each other. However, Auston’s never been as physical demonstrative with Mitch as in the last three days. It’s like he’s storing it up after a long draught, which makes sense since they haven’t seen each other since late July. Come to think of it, Auston was attached to Mitch’s hip then, too, touching him and laying a hand on Mitch’s back when he wasn't leaning against Mitch, or hugging him.

Good things come to those who wait, Francois the merman often reminds them all. Mitch imagines that might be true in this scenario.

Willy comes over the following day around eleven, because he’s chronically late for everything not hockey related. Luckily, he brings enough food to feed half the team, since he’s very generous. He looks relaxed and happy, a smug expression on his face as he hugs Mitch as tightly as he did yesterday.

“You got laid,” Mitch says, and it comes out like an accusation even if he doesn't mean to. “Sorry,” he hastens to add, “I am actually very happy for you.”

“I know,” Willy laughs delighted. “And relax, Mitchy, it was Zach.”

“Oh, even better,” Mitch says relieved. He was 99.9% sure, but geniehood is not an exact science, after all, and he’s not perfect.

“Here, everything is still hot, so we should eat it,” Willy says shoving his bag in Mitch’s arms.

“I’m surprised you actually dragged yourself out of bed,” Mitch muses as he dishes out the succulent breakfast Willy bought.

“Zach had to go shopping with Cees and Brownie,” Willy explains taking a seat at Mitch’s kitchen table.

“And you didn't want to save him from his boring Canadian taste?” Mitch asks sitting across from Willy and digging into his eggs with gusto.

“It would have been three vs. one. Kappy refuses to get involved anymore. He claims Brownie and Cees are hopeless.”

“Zach could still be taught, with the right incentive,” Mitch smirks.

“Working on that,” Willy smirks back. “In the meantime, I’ll allow him to buy some boring blue and grey polo shirts, or whatever it is he went looking for.”

“Cool,” Mitch says. “So, what did you wanna talk about? Because you want to talk about something, right?”

“Ah,” Willy says sheepishly, passing a hand through his hair—he hasn't shaved yet, though Mitch had to admit he can really pull off the whole Lion King look.

“I wanted to thank you for yesterday,” Willy explains. “If you hadn’t been there, it would have taken me a few months to gather up the courage to talk to Zach about … things.”

“I didn't do anything,” Mitch says, feigning ignorance.

“Of course you did,” Willy says serious, looking Mitch straight in the eye. “I might be human, but your kind is much more common in Sweden—in all of the northern countries, really—than it is around these parts.”

“My kind?” Mitch stutters, completely taken aback by Willy’s statement. He can feel himself going blistering hot and then frigid cold in the span of three seconds.

“Don't panic, Mitchy,” Willy says grabbing Mitch’s hand and squeezing it gently. “I’m not gonna say anything.”

“About what?” Mitch says, since denial is the best line of defense.

“About your powers,” Willy says as sure of himself as he’s ever sounded. “I’m not even sure if you’re a fairy or an elf or something else,” he adds.

“I am not a fairy or an elf,” Mitch objects truthfully, but Willy ignores him.

“As I said, I am completely human and I don't know anyone like you. But I do know you guys exist and I do know how you can look like. It’s the eyes, you see?”

“The eyes?” Mitch croaks.

“Yeah,” Willy nods, Mitch’s hand still in Willy’s, which is warm and dry and reassuring. “You have preternatural eyes. And they changed color, yesterday.”

“You’re not supposed to be able to see that,” Mitch says.

“No, if you don't know what you’re looking for,” Willy acknowledges. “But I’ve heard about you guys. Were-wolf?” he adds with a winning smile.

“You seem to know absolutely nothing considering you claim to know quite a bit,” Mitch rolls his eyes.

“Part of my charm,” Willy continues to smile widely, patting Mitch’s hand before going back to his breakfast.

“Sure,” Mitch snorts.

“Were-pup?” Willy inquires, eyebrows wagging. “I bet Matty would love that.”

“I’m not a were-creature,” Mitch sighs.

“My great-grand-mother met an elf, once,” Willy explains as he eats. “It’s how I know about it. Greenest eyes she’d ever seen, like jewels. She was a good painter, my granny, so she made a portrait of her—it was a female elf, by the way. It’s somewhere in my parents’ attic. I remember staring at it when I was a child. You’ve similar eyes.”

“My eyes are blue, and I am not an elf,” Mitch specifies.

“I believe you, and it’s not in the color. More the expression?” Willy is clearly trying to figure this out. “And the, like, inner light? It’s hard to explain.”

“Trust me, I know,” Mitch sighs heavily. It’s not like he can’t relate, after all, given his difficulties at explaining luminosities to his discussion board group.

“You are not overly fond of water, so I don't think you’re a merman or a water nymph.”

“Good bet,” Mitch says chewing on his potatoes.

“I mean, we could spend the whole day going through the list,” Willy says sounding sensible. “But it’d be faster if you told me. It’s got something to do with people falling in love,” he adds. “But you’re not Cupid, right?”

“See any wings?” Mitch shots back. “Because I don’t have any. And congrats with falling in love with Hyms. You’re going to be very happy together.”

“We are?” Willy asks, looking delighted and tentative at the same time, a faint reddening of his cheeks showing his excitement at the prospect of being with Zach for a long time.

“You’re perfect for each other,” Mitch reassures him. This isn’t a part he gets to do, because people don't know who he is. It’s nice, therefore, that he can tell Willy that things are going to work out.

“But you’re not Cupid,” Willy repeats.

“Nope,” Mitch says. “You have to promise not to make stupid jokes,” he adds quickly.

“I’m not going to be able to, Marns, come on,” Willy complains. “I had this thing ready if you were a were, which I cannot use anymore, thanks for that. You have to let me say something.”

“Willy,” Mitch begins.

“Just for a bit. Like, I don't know, a month?” Willy suggests.

“A month?” Mitch is horrified.

“A week?” Willy smiles.

“Straight?” Mitch asks back. “Or, like, seven separate days throughout our lifetimes?”

Willy thinks about it for a moment.

“A week straight,” he concludes. “I’m not going to be able to stop once I start, and if you don't want me to make jokes forever, I need to have the concentrated time to make it good and get it out of my system.”

Mitch huffs.

“Come on, Marns. I’m not going to tell anyone, I promise. Unless you want to,” Willy says.

“Fine, but don't ask me to show you any tricks,” Mitch relents.

“I’ve already seen what you can do and I’m both impressed and grateful,” Willy says.

“Iamgenie,” Mitch says quickly.

“What?” Willy asks, furrowing his forehead.

“I said I am a genie,” Mitch repeats leaning against his chair resigned.

“A genie?” Willy says. “Like ‘I’m a genie in a bottle, you gotta rub me the right way’?” he asks quoting Christina Aguilera.

“That song came out the year I was born,” Mitch says, since he knows everything there is to know about genies and pop culture. “How do you even know the lyrics?”

“It’s a classic,” Willy says. “And it’s going to become your ringtone as soon as I have two seconds to download it.”

“Willy,” Mitch says.

“You’re that kind of genie?” Willy asks again.

“Without the bottle and the three wishes, but yes, I’m a genie,” Mitch says.

“How can you be a genie without a bottle and the wishes?” Willy seems puzzled by this.

“I’m not the product of someone’s overactive imagination?” Mitch says sarcastically.

“No, no,” Willy says, “I get that you’re not Disney’s genie, but aren’t you guys, like, bound to obey when summoned?”

Mitch sighs heavily, because he knows what Willy is referring to, but that’s not how it works for him.

“I don't know what other genies do, since I’m the only one I am aware of. All I know is that I am a benevolent spirit that guards, protects and helps people in love or lust with each other.”

“And genie is the best you could come up with?” Willy says.

“Well, people in love usually want to be together and I can make that happen, even if they don’t ask me directly.” Mitch points out. “So, technically, I do fulfill their wishes. I do it only if it’s clear that they do want it, though,” he hastens to assure Willy, who smiles, clearly understanding why Mitch is specifying the point. “No magic potions or spells needed.”

“I like Cupid better,” Willy replies.

“I don't have wings or arrows,” Mitch explains. “And genie always felt right.”

“Why not sorcerer or warlock?” Willy asks.

“I don't know,” Mitch says. “It’s not like a got a letter from Hogwarts or something.”

“So you didn't do any training?” Willy seems genuinely curious.

“Some,” Mitch confesses. “I got a couple of friends and we help each other whenever we can.”

“You mean, like, other genies?”

“No, Willy, I told you. I never met another genie,” Mitch reminds him. “But I know some fairies, trolls and whatnot, and we look out for each other.”

“That’s cool,” Willy says, sounding relieved Mitch isn’t alone in this. “So what is it that you do?”

Mitch tells him, because it’s nice to be able to discuss it with one of his friends and because Willy is genuinely curious.

Mitch explains about discovering his powers and his first missteps. He describes the concept of luminosity and then spends half an hour trying to convince Willy he doesn't see people’s auras—“The trolls said so, Willy!”—or souls—“I think those are above my pay grade.” He explains about mom and dad and Marty and Syd, as well as Davo and Stromer and their eternal sunsets—apparently Willy knows about the McStrome saga from his brother Alex, who knows about it from Eichs, who knows because Stromer had a fling with him and Davo can be a royal bitch when he gets jealous.

He talks about other hockey players without mentioning any names—“Come on, Marns!” Willy objects loudly. “You cannot tell me that two players, one on the Devils and one on the Islanders are, like, soulmates and leave it at that. What are you doing about it?” “Nothing, at least for now,” Mitch says. “I need a plan and some ground support”—and about some of his non-hockey friends.

He spends quite a bit of time describing Zach and Willy’s luminosities; Willy pulls out his phone and forces Mitch to go through colors for twenty minutes until he’s absolutely sure he has the purple, orange and green right—“You’re gonna learn how to draw and then you’re gonna show me the patterns,” Willy concludes, leaving Mitch no room for discussion.

Willy then begins to ask random questions about their teammates—“Everyone is fine, Willy,” Mitch reassures him—and about other people in the league he knows but Mitch doesn't—“I’ll take a look next time if you reminds me,”—before finally going for the jugular.

“What about you?”

“Me?” Mitch asks. They’re done with breakfast and Mitch is loading the dishwasher while Willy makes them some tea.

“Yes, can you see your luminosity?” Willy inquires.

“Nah,” Mitch says.

“Oh,” Willy looks sad for a moment, before perking up. “Well, I bet it merges perfectly with Auston’s.”

“You know what, Willy?” Mitch says after pondering that for a bit. “I bet you’re right.”

“So what are you gonna do about _that_?” Willy asks.

“Wait and see?” Mitch suggests. “Things are good, but we just got back and I want to focus on training camp.”

“Makes sense, sure,” Willy nods thoughtfully. “But Matty would be on board with not waiting.”

“Do you know something I don’t?” Mitch asks.

“We’ve not discussed you, if that’s what you’re asking,” Willy explains. “But I see how he looks at you and how you are together. It’s more than just friends, I think. It’s been for a while.”

Mitch agrees with Willy, really, but he’d like to have more concrete evidence of Auston’s openness to changing their relationship than his own wishful thinking and Willy’s read on the situation.

“He doesn’t know about the genie thing, right?” Willy says. “I think you should tell him.”

“It’s not something I want to advertise, Willy,” Mitch replies. “It can get tricky really fast for people like us.”

“Yeah, I know,” Willy says. “Or I guess I should say I imagine it could be. But it’s Matty. Worst comes to worst, he’s gonna buy you a lamp and an odalisque costume.

“Not that kind of genie, Willy,” Mitch sighs.

“One week worth of chirping, Marns,” Willy says, a satisfied smirk on his handsome face. “We’re gonna have so much fun.”

“Nobody’s going to get the joke,” Mitch reminds him, but Willy shrugs, seemingly unconcerned.

“Tell him. Everything. I can back you up if you need me to,” Willy offers. “And Marns, I might not see luminosities or whatever you want to call our essences, but you and Matty are, like, one soul in two bodies or some shit like that. You belong together.”

That’s actually really nice and Mitch smiles happily at the description.

“I’ll think about it, I promise,” Mitch says. “Can I tell him about you and Zach?” he asks then. “He was really invested, too.”

“Of course you can,” Willy says ruffling Mitch’s hair. “And we can go on a pseudo-double date sometimes this week.”

“Cool,” Mitch replies. “Now tell me more about Smashfest.”

The glee in Willy’s eyes makes it clear he’s got awesome stories, so the two of them spend a few hours gossiping about their fellow hockey players and playing video games before Willy goes to retrieve his wayward boyfriend and Mitch decides to call Matty.

“How did it go?” Matty asks.

“Well, as I said in the text,” Mitch says.

“You sent one thumb up,” Auston grouses. “That’s not very informative.”

“It’s plenty informative,” Mitch replies. “They are happily together and, from what I could gather from Willy’s expression, the sex is awesome.”

“I didn’t ask about that,” Auston winces. “Why would you tell me that? I don’t need to imagine them having sex.”

“I didn’t say you should imagine them,” Mitch points out.

“They’re my lineys, Mitchy,” Auston complains. “Or at least they were.”

“Who the fuck knows with Babs,” Mitch replies philosophically. “Anyway, all is well on that front. Willy wants the four of us to go out together soon. I think he wants to show Zach off.”

“Good,” Auston nods approvingly. “Zach should be shown off. Are they telling people?”

“Dunno,” Mitch admits. “Willy said I could tell you but I don’t know what they’re doing with the rest of the team.”

“The guys will be fine with it,” Auston states adamantly, like he can will their teammates into not being homophobic.

“I think so,” Mitch agrees. “And if they don’t, we can tell Babs and he’ll sort them out.”

“Solid plan,” Auston says. “So, are you, like, free now?” he asks tentative.

“Yep,” Mitch says.

“Wanna come over?”

“I’ve been there non-stop, Matty,” Mitch objects. “Are you sure you don’t want to come here?” He doesn’t mind spending time at Auston’s but he wants to reciprocate.

“I mean, I can,” Auston says. “But I’ve got some new clothes I wanna show you.”

“Fine,” Mitch says faux-put-upon. “I will drive over. Give me an hour, though. I got no food in the house, so I want to get something in case you actually do come over at some point.”

***

“So,” Mitch begins a few hours later, sprawled on Auston’s couch with a bowl of popcorn before him.

“So,” Auston says looking up from his phone. “We need to go to dinner at Patty’s. The kids have been asking about us and Christina wants to see us, too.”

“Oh, right,” Mitch comments. “I am free whenever.”

“You’re never free,” Auston says. “You’re always with one friend or another.”

“They’re all going to training camp, Matty,” Mitch explains. “Stromer has been in Arizona since Biosteel and Davo is in Edmonton.”

“They’re not your only friends,” Auston says.

“Still free whenever, except for when we’re going out for dinner with Zach and Willy,” Mitch says.

“Naz wants to go bowling with JT,” Auston adds.

“Good plan,” Mitch nods. “We can go over at Patty’s before that, though. Like, tomorrow or any other day this week. You know my schedule.”

“Did you sync your calendar to mine?” Auston asks innocently.

“I’m always with you, asshole,” Mitch tosses him a popcorn, which Auston deftly catches—with a hand, not his mouth, but it’s the thought that counts.

“Anyways,” Mitch says, “I wanted to show you something. But you have to swear you’ll never utter a word about this to anyone.”

“Anyone?” Matty asks arching his eyebrows.

“Well,” Mitch blushes. “Willy knows, but he found out because he’s a meddlesome ass. And Swedish.”

Auston’s eyes widen. “Willy knows something I don’t? I’m hurt, Marns.”

“You’re a dick, Matts,” Mitch exhales heavily.

“A hurt dick,” Auston smirks.

“You’ll _have_ a hurt dick if you keep this up. I’ll throw this bowl at you.”

“What do you want to tell me?” Auston asks.

“Swear you’ll keep it to yourself,” Mitch insists.

“Marns …”

“No, Auston,” Mitch interrupts him. “This is really important. And it cannot get out.”

Auston looks at him pensively before nodding.

“Okay, I promise. I won’t say anything to anyone.”

“And not stupid jokes, like, ever,” Mitch adds for good measure.

“Cross my heart,” Auston says.

“Thanks,” Mitch says relieved. Then, after thinking about his options for a second, he looks at Auston, who’s looking back, and makes his eyes glow, sort of like he did with Willy but without the intent behind it.

“What …?” Auston breathes, jaw slacked. “Why are your eyes changing color?”

“That’s sort of what I wanted to talk to you about,” Mitch says. He lifts his right hand and puts it on top of the popcorn bowl. After a second, there is a string of popcorns levitating in Auston’s living room, floating around and making circular patterns by following Mitch’s commands. Not a very impressive special effect—Mitch doesn’t use them often—but effective nonetheless, by looking at Auston’s expression.

“How’re you doing that?” Auston asks amazed.

“Strength of will,” Mitch replies truthfully.

“Your strength of will is stronger than gravity?” Auston says.

“Gravity isn’t that strong a force, all things considered,” Mitch explains—he learned this from one of the trolls, Maurice, who teaches high school physics. “But we’re talking different types of strength, really.”

The popcorns fly gently over Auston’s head before returning to their bowls.

“Like magic,” Auston whispers staring at Mitch.

“Yeah,” Mitch nods.

“So you’re a wizard? Like, not a magician who performs tricks, but an actual wizard.”

Mitch sort of resents JK Rowling on days like these. Just because someone is magical it doesn’t mean they’ve got to be wizards.

“Nope,” Mitch says. “Not a wizard.”

“Oh,” Auston says. “Some other thingy, then. That’s magical.”

“Right,” Mitch snorts.

“What,” Auston huffs offended, the surprise still obvious on his face. “It’s not like I’m an expert, Marns.”

“I’m a genie,” Mitch explains, because he doesn’t want to drag this longer than he has to.

“You mean like in _Aladdin_?” Auston asks.

“No, Auston, not like in _Aladdin_.”

“So you’re not going to be trapped in a lamp at the service of some random person,” Auston says sounding relieved beyond measure.

“No, absolutely not,” Mitch promises. “I don’t even have a lamp. Or a bottle.”

“Okay, good,” Auston says. “I mean, I am sorry you don’t have a lamp, but I’m glad you don’t need to follow other people’s instructions.”

“I’ve to follow Babs’,” Mitch reminds him.

“You know what I mean,” Auston laughs.

“Yeah, I do,” Mitch concurs. “Anyway, I am a genie without a master and a bottle.”

“This is so cool,” Auston says, a bright smile on his face.

“But my powers are sort of limited,” Mitch hastens to explain before Auston thinks he can do whatever he wants.

“You help people who like each other,” Auston observes, showing he has a big brain to go with his massive forehead. “I mean, who _like-like_ each other.”

“Bingo,” Mitch nods. “I can tell if they’re suited for each other and help them along if that’s what they both want.”

“Like Cupid,” Auston nods, demonstrating the same level of ignorance Willy displayed earlier. Maybe Mitch should invest in a book on Classical mythology to share with his teammates.

“Not like Cupid,” Mitch sighs. “I don’t _make_ people fall in love. That’d be uncool.”

“I guess you’re right,” Auston agrees. “How does it work, though?”

That’s how Mitch spends the evening: explaining to Auston Matthews the mysteries of luminosity, fairies, trolls and William Nylander’s weird knowledge of all things magical.

Auston has a ton of questions and, when Mitch mentions Stromer and Davo, he wants to know all the details, because he’s a fucking romantic at heart and that’s a love story for the ages. He also wants to know who else Mitch knows that’s suited and that nobody would ever see coming. Mitch hesitates, there, because he’s seen he can’t unsee—or rather luminosities that look like abstract pornographic paintings—and they do involve people Matty knows.

“It’s really nobody’s business but theirs, though,” Mitch points out when Auston starts to pout at Mitch’s indecisiveness.

“I guess you’re right,” Auston acknowledges begrudgingly. “I am like you in this, though. I want people to be happy.”

“If I think it’s time to intervene, or if I can, I will tell you, alright?” Mitch says. “Willy’s probably wanna be involved anyway.”

“Are you going to tell Zachy, as well? Because he’d love this shit you’ve got going,” Auston asks.

Mitch rolls his eyes at Auston describing his powers as ‘shit’, but he considers the question seriously. It would mean going from zero to three people knowing in no time, but it doesn't freak him out as much as Willy knowing did just this morning.

“It’s not just about me,” Mitch says. “Like, there are other people involved.”

“And they don't tell anyone?” Auston asks.

“I mean, we don't often talk about this, but Muriel’s wife knows, I think, and so does Viviana’s husband.”

“See?” Auston says. “Everyone needs a support network and your magical friends aren’t here.”

“Why do you want Zach to know so badly?” Mitch asks suspicious.

“Because he’s the one with the academic awards and the book deals,” Auston replies promptly. “Best brain on the team. We want him on our side. Plus, come on: how long do you think it’s going to take Willy to begin nagging you about telling him.”

Mitch sighs, because the thought had crossed his mind.

“I’ll think about it, okay?” Mitch promises.

Auston nods and lets that go.

“So,” he says, looking at Mitch with a soft smile. “How does mine look?”

Mitch is taken aback. He should have expected the question, to be honest, but Willy hadn’t asked since Mitch had described it before he could, so he isn’t really prepared.

“I actually don’t know,” Mitch says.

“What do you mean, you don't know?” Auston sounds really put off by that, like he wasn't expecting it.

“I’ve never seen it,” Mitch admits.

“Never?” Auston asks, looking really bummed.

“Never,” Mitch repeats. “Why? Should I have?”

“I guess not,” Auston says.

“I’ve never seen Freddie’s, if it’s of any consolation,” Mitch adds. “Or your buddy McAvoy.”

“What about Larks?” Auston asks.

Mitch shakes his head with a smile. “Not touching that,” he tells Auston.

“Ah,” Auston nods satisfied. “I’m going to ask to you to describe it to me if we ever go to a Detroit-Columbus game.”

“I don’t see in what universe that would happen,” Mitch replies.

“Are you sure you never saw mine?” Auston asks again.

“Positive,” Mitch says. “Have you met someone I don't know about?” he adds, his heart squeezing a bit.

“No, no,” Auston says. “I just thought … doesn't matter.”

Afterwards, Auston drops the subject and the two of them chat about Leafs things and how one of the OHL managers told his players to stop dropping Fortnite references on social media—Mitch gets the point, but he thinks it’s stupid. Auston just thinks it’s stupid, but then Auston has a much lower tolerance for bullshit than Mitch has.

They also manage to make plans to have dinner at Patty’s at the end of the week and with Zach and Willy at Zach’s place two days from now. This means Mitch is free to go home and spend some times with his family before they send out a search party. Auston, on the other hand, is committed to sleeping as much as possible before camp starts.

By the time Mitch arrives at Zach’s two days later, he’s pretty much decided to tell Zach. He chatted with Tina about it—Tina is Mitch’s favorite, to be honest, though he’d never admit that aloud, because trolls and fairies can get so jealous—and Tina argued it was a good idea. A fucking multi-paragraphs argument, because Tina’s a uni teacher no matter what, even if she doesn't teach English.

So Mitch gets to Zach’s prepared to spill the beans. He’s not prepared, however, to be ambushed by Willy.

“You have to let me tell Zach,” he begs as soon as Mitch is through the door and has removed his shoes. “I don't like having secrets from him and I can’t chirp you at my full capacity if I am stressed about it.”

“Your chirping is just fine,” Mitch says shoving the bottle of red he brought into Willy’s hands. “It’s been relentless for the past 48 hours. My mom asked me if I am considering taking up belly dancing, what with all the music clips you’ve been sending me.”

“It’s uninspired,” Willy complains while taking Mitch through Zach’s apartment and into the kitchen, where Auston is prepping a salad under Zach’s supervision.

“Still relentless,” Mitch comments.

“What is?” Zach asks from the stove.

“Willy’s chirping,” Mitch explains.

“It’s pretty bad,” Auston agrees, since Mitch’s been sharing the stupidest bits with him.

“It’s because I need someone to help me and Auston won’t,” Willy whines.

“That’s because Auston knows what’s best for him,” Mitch reminds everyone.

“Not really,” Auston says. “I was just dumb enough to promise I’d never chirp you. I didn't know Willy’d negotiated chirping rights.”

“Chirping rights?” Zach asks perplexed, turning towards Mitch. “About what?”

“Me being a genie,” Mitch explains with a winning smile.

“Right,” Zach snorts, going back to stirring the tomato sauce he’s preparing—Zach is a master at pasta sauces, and Mitch is happy to see that’s on tonight menu.

“It’s true,” Willy says, digging through Zach’s kitchen drawers in search of a corkscrew. “Though he doesn't have a bottle.”

“Or a lamp,” Auston adds helpfully.

“And he doesn't have to fulfill anyone’s three wishes,” Willy explains to Zach. “Which is cool, because if he had to, someone could have asked for the Canucks to win the cup and that would seriously suck.”

“I can think of worse things than the Canucks winning the cup,” Auston observes reasonably.  

“Whatever,” Willy says. “Isn’t it cool we have a genie on the team, though, Hymie?” he asks like an excited puppy, dropping a kiss on Zach’s cheek before finally pouring wine for everyone.

“Wait a minute,” Zach turns towards Auston. “How did Willy manage to get you on this? You usually stay out of his silly pranks.”

“It’s not a prank, Hymie,” Auston tells him gently, pointing to the glasses Mitch has decided to make levitate to convince Zach—again, he’s not using his more impressive tricks, but he figures this will suffice. Plus, Zach already benefitted from his awesome powers.

“Sweet Jesus,” Zach says, dropping the wooden spoon he’s been using on the floor.

Willy picks it up and quickly cleans the mess Zach made, clearly trying to impress him, which Mitch approves wholeheartedly.

“Give him some of that wine, Marns,” Auston tells him. “He definitely needs it.”

Mitch obeys with a smirk. “Don't pretend to be so chill, Matts. You liked the popcorn show too much.”

Zach grabs the closest wine glasses out of the air and drains it before grabbing the one destined for Willy as well.

“Okay,” he says shutting the gas off. Mitch doesn't exactly approve: he is really hungry, so he’d like for that to be a temporary move. “Explain,” Zach continues, sitting at the table.

So Mitch does, for the third time in as many days.

Zach, because it’s Zach, asks twice as many questions as Auston and Willy did combined, and he has an average of three follow-up questions for each main one. At some point, Auston decides it’s time to eat, goes to work on the sauce and puts a pot of water on the stove while Willy sets the table and puts some chicken in the oven.

“Not your standard genie, then,” Zach nods at some point—he didn't go for the Cupid comparison, thank fuck.

“Nope,” Mitch agrees.

“Much better this way, I have to agree with Willy, here,” Zach says. “And you can see our luminosities? Mine and Willy’s? Right now?”

“I see them every time you guys are together,” Mitch confirms.

“And they don't bother you?” Willy asks curious.

“Not at all,” Mitch says. “I’ve always seen luminosities, so they’re just part of my view of the world, you know. Like, I think one of my first memories is of my parents’. Luckily I didn't ask about them, because I thought everyone could see them.”

“You still can’t see mine,” Auston grumbles as he stirs the pasta.

“Of course he can’t,” Zach points out reasonably.

“What the fuck, Hymie,” Auston sounds upset. “Why shouldn't he be able to see it?”

“Well,” Zach says looking at Mitch. “You can’t see your own, right? You just said that.”

“No,” Mitch answers, blushing furiously at Zach’s being able to understand things.

“I have to assume you’re not going to able to see those of anyone romantically connected with you,” Zach continues, deciding this is the right time not only to go scientist on them, but to be all reasonable and crystal-clear about Mitch’s and Auston’s feelings. “Like, people you like or fall in love with and who like you back.”

“Right,” Mitch nods.

Willy smiles proudly at his boyfriend’s awesomeness.

Auston looks like he just ate a lemon for a second, there, but then he brightens up.

“Ah,” he says, as his neurons get suddenly activated.

“What?” Willy zooms into Auston with the precision of a heat missile. “Did you think Mitch couldn't see your luminosity because he doesn't like you? Are you fucking blind?”

“He’s a love genie!” Auston defends himself.

“Matchmaking genie,” Mitch corrects him, not that anyone is listening.

“Of course I freaked out when he said he couldn't see mine,” Auston continues ignoring Mitch. “I thought he didn't think about me that way.”

“Matty, buddy,” Zach gets up and pats Auston on the shoulder. “One doesn't need magical powers to see that Mitch adores you.”

“Oh,” Auston says. He’s so excited he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, Mitch notices.

“Plus, it wouldn't make sense if he could use his powers to his own advantage, right?” Willy cleverly points out. “Aren’t there, like, tons of fables and cautionary tales about how that’s a big no-no?”

“There is that,” Mitch agrees looking at Auston, who’s staring at him with such delight Mitch doesn't quite know what to do with himself.

“No mutual declarations of love in my kitchen,” Zach says before going to ready the pasta.

“What mutual declarations?” Mitch protests. “You guys took care of that for us.”

“Fine,” Zach concedes. “No making out in my kitchen. We can eat and you can tell us more about your powers and then you guys can drive home.”

“Or to the closest hotel,” Willy suggests.

“Fuck off, Willy,” Mitch and Auston say at the same time.

Auston smiles brilliantly and goes for a fist bump, which Mitch reciprocates gladly.

“Sit,” Zach orders then. “No funny businesses, please, we still have to eat here.”

“I am much more supportive of your relationship than you are of mine,” Mitch reminds him.

“You don't have a relationship, yet,” Willy comments before opting to sit between Mitch and Auston and across from Zach to prevent any physical contact. Apparently both Zach and Willy are determined to cockblock Mitch, tonight.

“That’s going to be rectified soon enough,” Auston says plainly.

“Not in my kitchen,” Zach insists as he dishes the pasta.

“Spoilsport,” Mitch says, smiling at Auston.

“We’re gonna leave after dinner,” Auston states. “You can ask Mitch about his powers another day,” he adds speaking to Zach.

“Fine,” Zach accepts. “What are guys doing tomorrow?”

“Are you sure you want to know?” Mitch asks. “Because we could give you a full report, but I’m not sure you’d like it.”

“You do realize you didn't make me promise I wouldn't chirp you until the end of times, right?” Zach shoots back placidly.

“You wouldn't dare,” Mitch exclaims, pretending to be mortally wounded by Zach’s betrayal.

“True,” Zach agrees, “but I can help Willy being a colossal pain in the ass for the next … how many days have you got left on your chirping period?”

“Three excluding today,” Willy says.

“That’s a lot of time for chirping,” Zach nods wisely.

“Fine,” Mitch says resigned. “We can do something tomorrow.”

“Or the day after,” Auston negotiates.

“The day after tomorrow works for us,” Willy says. “We can get some skating in and then grab lunch at that Lebanese place Naz was telling us about.”

“Perfect setting and soundtrack,” Zach nods approvingly.

Auston says nothing, Mitch notices, probably because he knows he better not if he wants to go anywhere close to first base with Mitch.

“You’ve got to tell us who those other players are that you mentioned, though,” Willy insists. “Like, what’s up with the Islanders? Or the Devils?”

“And the Flyers?” Auston sounds completely shocked by this. “The fucking Flyers?”

“I’m very interested in what’s going on with Buffalo,” Zach says. “So should you, Willy.”

“I’m very interested in what’s going on everywhere,” Willy replies. “We could make a shit-ton of money by helping people along. Hockey players are notoriously dumb about this kind of things.”

“I’m not asking for money!” Mitch objects vehemently. “That’d be unfair.”

“We should still try to help if we can,” Auston says. “Willy is right: we tend not to see what is right before us until it’s spelled out for us,” he adds sheepishly. “I am sure we can do much good for a lot of people.”

“The season starts in a month,” Mitch tries to stop this train-wreck.

“That gives us the time to come up with a plan that fits our schedule,” Zach says sensibly.

“You guys are just in it for the gossip,” Mitch looks at Auston and Willy accusingly.

“We want to help you, Mitchy,” Auston tells him gently. “You don't have to do this by yourself anymore, if you don't want to.”

Mitch has never thought his powers were a burden, but it’s nice to share this responsibility he feels he has with some of his closest friends and his soon-to-be boyfriend.

“Okay,” Mitch relents. “But I’m telling you nothing. You have to figure out the players’ identities by using your powers of observation, not mine.”

“Deal,” Willy says. “I’ve already a list.”

“I do, too,” Auston admits because he’s a goofball with the heart of an angel.

“You gotta help me keep them in line,” Mitch tells, implores really, Zach.

“Don’t worry, Mitchy,” Zach says. “I got you.”

It’s a nice idea, at least in theory, and Mitch doesn't mind as much as he makes it sound. When he confesses this to Auston later that night, as they lay naked in Mitch’s bed, Auston smiles softly and he caresses Mitch’s lips with his own.

“Of course you don’t,” he says. “You’ve the biggest heart I’ve ever known, matchmaking genie or not.”

“I do not,” Mitch says hiding his embarrassment in Auston’s shoulder.

“You do, too,” Auston laughs. “It’s not a bad thing, Mitchy. If there is something this world needs is more people like you, not fewer.”

“You’re biased because you like me,” Mitch says.

“I’m biased because I adore you,” Auston replies, echoing Zach’s words.

“I adore you, as well,” Mitch says happily. “I am sorry I cannot see our luminosities,” he says then.

“I’m not if it means I get to be with you,” Auston reassures him. “And who knows, maybe one day we’ll meet someone like you who can describe them for us.”

“That’d be nice,” Mitch says. “I can’t promise you forever, though. Not like I can with Davo and Dyls.”

“We’ll make our forever, Mitch,” Auston says certain, gathering Mitch in his arms and enveloping him tightly. “We’ll build it day after day, here in Toronto and everywhere we go, with our friends, our families, and your magical cohort.”

“Okay,” Mitch nods, eyes filled with tears. Auston sounds so sure it’s easy to believe their luminosities are merging together seamlessly in the darkness of this September night.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Untagged couples—in my universe everyone is gay or bi—include:
> 
> Connor McDavid/Dylan Strome
> 
> Zach Werenski/Dylan Larkin
> 
> Other individuals are obliquely referred to as having luminosities, but they are not necessarily together. You can guess who they are in the comments!


End file.
